Waking Up Screaming
by Simply Hopeless
Summary: Miroku didn't know what to do first. Scream like a little girl, throw up a liver or grope the person he had cheated on his longtime girlfriend with. If he screamed, then his bed guest would kill him. If he threw up, again death. But if he groped... Maybe Sesshomaru would at least let him cop a feel before he saw that great Buddha in the sky. MirSess. Yaoi


Hello this is Simply Hopeless a.k.a. Assassin's Kiss with this new story for you. I wanted to update at least one new story on Friday the 13th because it's 2013 and I'm weird like that. Please tell me if you like it or not. I love detailed reviews but if you don't write like that, that's okay. Just tell me what you like about it and possibly what more you want to see. I don't own Inuyasha but this is definitely** boy x boy, Miroku/Sesshomaru** stuff going on here. So if you don't like don't read any further. Save us both the headache XP

Waking Up Screaming!

Something was wrong.

It smelled like sweat, alcohol, artificial strawberries, and sex. Like him and the person he had been with; but that person didn't have the distinctive perfume that belonged to his long-time girlfriend Sango. No, he and his girlfriend had had a big blow out right before his best friend's wedding. It was right after he had wearily tried to climb into their hotel bed, clothes still on, that she noticed his lip stained collar and the sparkly sheen of that pesky stripper glitter that had clung to one side of his jaw and both of his hands.

'Bambi? Strawberry? Or was it Candy? What was her name again?' The raven thought hazily, placing his hand carefully over his closed lids so that any light, whether artificial or natural, wouldn't penetrate through light-sensitive eyes and aggravate his already raging hangover.

The raven haired, Shinto priest wrinkled his handsome brow and sluggishly rolled his tongue across chapped lips. He could vaguely taste the coppery sweetness and dull throb of a busted lip. There was also the stale taste of brandy and morning breath, coupled with something bitter that eluded his awakening senses.

Carefully, before he opened his eyes to reality, he tried to muck his way through the night. The hair on his neck stood on end at the warm breath that tickled the side of his throat and the piece of flesh that sat like a warm branding iron across his hip. It was probably a leg or an arm that trapped him to the bed. But he didn't want to know who it belonged to yet. Not until he cleared things up in his head first. So he delicately teased out what he could recall and left the fuzzier memories for later perusal.

'My name is Miroku Hoshi and I am supposed to go to the wedding of my best friend, Inuyasha Taisho, as his best man this evening,' he thought. Then mentally nodded his head in approval for what he was able to decipher so far. 'I am dating Sango Yamane and to prove that I'm not just some playboy I have vowed to remain celibate until she is ready to do it.' He clicked his tongue to the roof his mouth as this thought surfaced because this was where things got murky and made his head pound like a tom tom drum at a hyped-up pep rally.

'I am… was celibate,' he quickly amended. He made no qualms to anyone, especially not his girlfriend, that he hadn't been chaste before he met his girlfriend Sango. Just because he was a holy man didn't mean that he didn't indulge in earthly sin here and there like women, gambling and alcohol. Buddha would want him to enjoy his short time on earth and be at a level that he could easily commune with the parishioners. But even if it had been a long while since he had sex, he couldn't deny the warm, euphoric feeling that bathed his aching limbs, despite his lingering hangover.

So he did have sex. But clearly, unless mistaken, it had not been with his girlfriend Sango.

"Fuck," he choked out hoarsely. He was not lost on the irony that it was him 'fucking' that had left him in this dilemma. But his throat felt raw, as if he had been doing more than yelling at Sango to hear him out before she pointed out the stripper footprints that had caught many a backsliding boyfriend with its' innocent glittery sheen. Miroku ended up throwing back glasses of brandy and one or two whisky sours in the hotel's bar in order to cool his heels before finding somewhere else to sleep. Which apparently he did because it didn't feel like was curled up on the unforgiving wood of some park bench or lobby couch. But even as he reached his fingers out to linger on the cool sheets and idly admired the thread-count, he still felt discomfort at the entire situation.

It felt like someone had jammed a cherry red fire poker down his throat and seared the tender flesh inside. So he swallowed gingerly, trying his best not to panic at the realization that this really might not be his girlfriend, Sango cuddled up at his side.

'I cheated on my long-time girlfriend. Was it with that stripper that smelled like strawberries? Wasn't she the one who kept trying to smother me in her chest until I had to grab her by both her wrists to make her stop? I know she had to have been the one who left the stripper trail of body glitter on me.'

His brow furrowed in concentration as he pondered long and hard about whether he had returned back to the voluptuous curves of the nameless stripper. Or did he sleep with someone even more random then the fare that was at last night's bachelor party?

Miroku knew he could just open his eyes and see for himself. But he feared in the pit of his stomach the reality of his mistake. But alas, the memory was too foggy to see. All he could remember was he threw one hell of a bachelor party, had to restrain a stripper, got yelled at and banned from his own suite by his girlfriend, drowned his sorrows in a few too many drinks and apparently had mind-blowing sex.

It had to have be mind-blowing because even piss-drunk, Miroku, didn't like to share a bed with his one night stands. Not unless he wanted to try for a repeat performance in the morning. He felt battered and achy but a part of his body was ready to rally the troops at a moment's at thoughts of last night.

'So who…' He trailed off, finally venturing to open his eyes slowly in order to adjust to the light filtering in through a hotel room that was clearly not his own. Miroku wasn't dirt poor; but the handsome Shinto priest couldn't afford the luxurious view that he was greeted with from the hotel's curtained window. The view from his and Sango's hotel room only afforded him a view of the parking lot and a glimpse of the swimming pool. So he highly doubted a stripper that he had to manhandle to get off him, would be courteous enough to provide him with such a luxurious room.

If she had paid, then he might have to change his occupation to stripping. But that would be another thought for another day. The fact was that the only rich people he knew who had enough to afford this view and the luxurious sheets he lay under were Inuyasha and Sesshomaru Taisho.

Now, even though Miroku was straight he was confident in his manhood to admit that Inuyasha wasn't really that bad on the eyes. Even if his best friend was a demon, if Miroku had been the opposite sex or even liked his own sex in that way he would have already propositioned his friend. But he wasn't and Inuyasha was as straight as they came. Honestly, if he came any straighter you could use him for a human ruler in come out with perfect lines every time.

So that left his best friend's older half-brother, Sesshomaru. He was the same workaholic, half-brother who was only begrudgingly attending because his father threatened to lay him off as vice-president to Taisho Corp. if he didn't stand in for him. If there was any way around it Sesshomaru made it clear he'd have preferred to switch places with his father, the acting president. But seeing as Inutaisho couldn't make it because he broke both legs in a ski/business trip, last weekend waving too enthusiastically to his anti-social son and ultimately falling while on a ski lift, there was no way around it. Of course there was SKYPE but Miroku had overheard the older brother vehemently refuse to hold his iPad in his lap so his father could see the ceremony.

But just thinking of that and the fact that Miroku was pretty much sure that the older youkai was so asexual, he might as well die a virgin; despite the many offers he received from admirers to cash in his V-card, he snorted. There was no way he could have drunken enough liquor in all of Japan to get him to sleep with that ice prick, nonetheless sleep with a dude. Yet clearly, with those two rich associates eliminated from his small list of suspects, something still remained wrong and it was lying right next to him in bed.

A volley of 'fuck's echoed throughout his head as he turned his head slowly to his right and away from the spectacular view of the breaking waves beating against the pristine beach the hotel looked over. He hoped and prayed that he had stupidly sank all his life savings into buying a suite for himself before ordering himself a 'Happy Ending' from one of many call girls from the telephone book. But chocolate orbs were only able to widen before continuing to stare at the hard, yet surprisingly smooth, planes of the alabaster Ice Prince, one Sesshomaru Taisho.

He was breathtaking when he wasn't looking his aristocratic nose down on the poverty of common folk like himself. Not that he was poor. He lived very well even for a Shinto Priest.

Onyx, Egyptian sheets barely covered slim, milky hips, morning wood and the ending of a happy trail that started at the indention of his delicate navel before disappearing under the sheets. Long, silvery hair spilled across the pillowcase like quick silver, giving off the perfect contrast to milk white skin that bore no blemishes except the perfect, angry reddish pink marks of love bites and phantom fingers that had dug too eagerly into tender flesh.

Miroku couldn't even stop himself from gently tracing a flaming pink finger mark on Sesshomaru's left hip. It was just the prefecture of crèmes and pinks that it was almost temping to leave another mark. His mouth was already murmuring a silent apology even as his greedy eyes moved up to linger briefly on perky, pink nipples that had hardened as soon as the air conditioning kicked on.

'Did he fuck me or did I fuck him?' he thought, off-handedly. His ass didn't feel sore, he thought after a moment, flexing his ass muscles to see if they recovering. 'So if we did do it then I took him. I, Miroku Hoshi, only son and Shinto Priest fucked the big bad Sesshomaru and am alive to tell about it,' he thought in both wonder and a little pride. 'When the hell did I grow steel balls?!'

He could feel his cock slowly stirring to life instead of waning at the memory of last night despite his memory loss. He glared down at it for a moment before shrugging mentally, realizing his cock was not so hung up on the sex of their partner as the rest of Miroku was. But despite Miroku firmly being straight even he could grudgingly admit that Sesshomaru was a beautiful specimen. That if he had to swing that way he would have ultimately chosen this brother over his best friend because of how androgynous and ethereal the frustrating inu was. There had always been something about him that demanded your attention even if those kissable lips dripped poison. Who couldn't, gay or otherwise, be mesmerized by the stubborn scowl that was only slightly lax in his sleep to that big hand that rested possessively over Miroku's bare left hip?

'If this had been Sango, or even another woman, this could have been a perfect way to great my best friend's wedding day,' he thought before letting out a regretful sigh. Then Miroku began the difficult task of pulling off a Houdini act of epic proportions. He had slipped out of many a woman's bed as soon as he was sure that she was out for the count. He had no attentions of making a long-term commitment out of one night stands. It had always been this way until he met his allusive girlfriend Sango. The only one he had allowed to tie him down. But while he paused to brood, ogle and reminisce the male inu youkai, shifted closer to his natural enemy. His head tucked itself naturally under his chin, even as he continued to sleep.

'We are natural enemies and you're a guy,' Miroku thought and tried his best to remember that even as his shifted his head in order to sniff the youkai's hair. 'Fuck, it smelled good. It's probably that rich, imported stuff that it would take a month's salary to buy.'

But even as he waited for that same disgust to curl up in his stomach at this rich asshole being able to have things he couldn't without worrying about, what he was going to eat the next day or bills, he couldn't feel it. He had never begrudged his best friend his rich lifestyle before and if Sesshomaru hadn't been such an ass he wouldn't have begrudged Sesshomaru either.

It honestly wasn't his fault that Sesshomaru looked so tempting when he was this vulnerable and cuddling so close to him. It was like if Bambi walked up to a hunter and nibbled cutely at the end of a shot gun. Sure this wasn't the type of Bambi that Disney would show but even though he was a Shinto Priest, who did exorcisms and exterminations of demons, he couldn't see himself wanting to make his problem disappear.

He shuddered and instinctively drew the demon closer, if possible, just at the thought of anything bad happening to him. This was confusing as fuck because last night he was ready to give up his sex life to be with the feisty Sango. But right now, right as this moment, he was willing to go against his instincts as a Shinto Priest to protect this anti-social demon that could have easily gutted him like a fish if he realized he had tapped that ass.

'FFFFFUUUUUCCCKKKK!' He groaned in his head as he reluctantly drew his arms away from the still thankfully sleeping youkai. 'Self-preservation comes first Miroku. You can think about whether you've gone gay for him later.' The voice of reason in his head was right and who was he to deny seeing another day on earth just because he wanted to cuddle with a ticking time bomb. So slowly, oh so slowly, he managed to lift, pull and untangle himself from the sleeping youkai.

His legs shaking like a newborn fawn, he quickly located his clothes with his eyes before wobbly moving to pull on his pants, forgoing his boxers in lieu of time restraints. He was already stuffing his boxers in his pants' pocket and sliding his other arm into the sleeve of his open shirt when he froze reflexively at the shifting of bed sheets.

He squeezed his eyes shut, praying to Buddha to be a better monk if it was just Sesshomaru shifting in his sleep. But the words that followed and the sudden realization that he had something shiny on his ring finger, made his legs nearly buckle from under him.

"Who gave you permission to leave our bed?"


End file.
